I Wish This War Was Over
by ExoticDarkOne
Summary: My life changed in a single day. Each time it got harder and harder to tear myself away from her, to go back and pick up my gun and pray I never saw her in front of me. Until finally it all came crashing down, and my only regret is that the first time we were able to be together forever would also be the last.
1. First Contact

**This was born from me really liking Nihlus and really hating that we didnt see more than twenty minutes of him. Also, there's just not enough of him going around.**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The door opening interrupts my feeble attempt at meditation. I was hoping to distract myself from my hunger, but it seems the attempt is unnecessary. It wasn't going very well anyway.

Two guards shove into the room and toss down a limp body. I try not to panic; it's a human female. We're they trying to get me killed? No doubt she'll try to kill me as soon as she lays eyes on me. The Relay 314 incident is a year old already, and humans and turians are as bitter and vicious as when it had began.

My panicking pulse calms when I realize the woman is not getting up. I take a moment to glance her over. Had to be Alliance or she wouldn't be in here with me; a Spectre will bring these slaving batarians bastards a hefty ransom. I'm assuming they think she'll be worth the trouble as well. Her hands are cuffed in front of her like mine are.

The cause of her unconsciousness is evident in the swelling of her face. Her lip is split, but not bleeding. A dirty shift is all she's wearing, and it clearly shows the bruises on her arms and the blood on her legs. It doesn't take much to know what happened. Rage coils inside me but I keep myself in check until the guards leave.

Once I'm sure they aren't coming back, I roll up into a crouch - being careful of my spurs - and edge towards her. There is a slight wheeze when she breathes, but it's not a sucking sound that would warn of blood in her lungs.

Gently, trying not to startle her nor make my own nervousness apparent, I reach out and give her shoulder a shake. It takes two more before she groans and looks up at me with eyes a scant few shades darker than my own.

She eyes me bleerily, before they widen and she rolls away from me. I hum in agitation, hoping she's not going to try to attack me. But all she does is crawl as fast as she can to the corner of the room and heave.

While she empties the contents of her stomach, I return to my previous spot against the wall and sag against it. When she's finished, she curls up in the floor and I do my best to pretend I'm not hearing her sob. After several minutes, her breathing comes under control and I fervently hope she's fallen asleep. I want to delay a meeting as long as possible. I simply can't afford wasting what energy I have on trying to wrestle with her.

I should've known I couldn't get that lucky.

She rolls into a kneeling position and her head swivels around to get a look at me. She observes me silently for a few seconds before crawling to the opposite wall from me and leaning against it much in the same way I am.

She licks her lips and whispers, "Hi."

I look away and ignore her. She had to be crazy.

"M' name's Abby. What's yer name?"

"I'm not giving my name to the enemy in the war I'm fighting!" I snap, still not looking at her. She makes an odd gurgling wheeze, and I glance at her in somewhat hopeful alarm. Was she dying?

No, she was laughing.

She gestures to the room.

"Look 'round ye. Ain't no war in here."

I grind my teeth as I think. She's right of course. It's slim chances that either of us will make it back to the war. I decide to concede her point.

"Nihlus."


	2. Blow This Joint

**Also, please note that if any of you are on Archive of our Own, yes, this is the same story because I am the same author. No copyright infringement here.**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It's a quiet few days in the cell with Abby. When the guards aren't making rounds, we whisper stories to each other. Passes the time.

We're only fed a ration bar a day, but I see her glance at me with concern. Even this human knows it's not even a fraction of what I need. The slavers are slowly starving me. Abby is losing weight too, but as she jokingly pointed out, she has a little extra packed away on the hips, and she doesn't have a metabolism as active as mine anyway.

On the days we have bars that aren't levo or dextrose specific, she breaks hers in half and gives one to me. I don't comment that it's always the bigger half too. I try to muster up the energy to be suspicious of her motives, but I know it's a wasted effort. She's just a nice person, caught up in a war when she'd rather be back to volunteering at the orphanage.

I watch now as she is pulling handfuls of her fringe over her shoulder and trying to run her fingers through it. The dark chocolate colored mass has facinated me since I took the time to take a look at it properly. I don't even realize she's watching me until it's too late to play it off. I hum in embarrassment and glance away, blue flush warming my neck.

Abby scoots over and turns her back to me.

"You want to give it a try? I'm not having any luck."

I glance at her back through narrowed eyes. What was her angle? After a couple of minutes, I ease over and settle behind her, tense as a wire, but she remains relaxed.

Satisfied she's not tricking me, I reach a hand up to the dark fringe. I hesitate for a moment, then carefully wrap my hand around a bit. I'm startled when I see just how many individual strands there actually are, and all flexible enough for me to wrap them completely around my fingers.

Another hesitation, but Abby is still and calm, so I reach to feel her scalp. It's strange to feel the skin give a little, and it's with morbid curiosity that I watch it return to its original place.

I'm elbow deep in her fringe when she hums and I startle, talons accidentally scraping her scalp. I know I didn't cut her - the batarians had long since dulled them - but I didn't know if twisting the fringe as I had hurt.

"Did I scare you? Sorry. It feels nice is all."

Heart pounding after the scare, I disentangle myself from her and scoot away. I had just enough time to see her lip curl into a smile before the door slammed open, making us both jump.

Rialdo, the only human working on the slaver, stomps inside and grabs Abby by the throat. He drags her away from me and shoves her onto her stomach.

I growl darkly at him as Abby starts struggling.

"Hey, hey, hey, none of that bitch." He grunts, and puts a gun to the back of her head. That silences us both and he starts fumbling with his belt.

Then Abby starts laughing darkly.

Rialdo slams her face into the floor. "What's so funny huh?"

"Remember the day I told you I'd kill you?" She asks. "Today's the day."

His eyes and mine widen when her cuffs come off and she slams the back of her head into his face before swinging an elbow up into the side of his head. He loses the pistol as she follows the motion, twisting her hips to swap their positions. Sitting on his chest, she wraps her fingers around his throat and squeezes.

His hands are grasping at her, and only him snatching a bit of her hair makes her let go. He missed his chance to throw her and she slams her fist into his face. Once. Twice.

There's blood after the third time, and her hands return to his throat. His arms flail at her, but he's disoriented now, and I watch in fascinated revulsion as they fall still for good.

She's digging in his pockets and stripping him of his clothes as she says, "Nihlus, I'm blowing this joint. Literally. If you want to come, now is the time to say so."

Mouth plates open and mandibles drooping in shock at the turn of events, I couldn't answer her.

"Nihlus! Are you with me?"

The shout breaks me from my stupor.

"I'm with you."


	3. Out of the Frying Pan

After a quick debate as to who takes point, Abby hands me Rialdo's pistol and keeps the assault rifle. It worries me, but her logic is sound; I'm too weak to make a punch if the batarians manage to form a line before we get to the cargo bay. So Abby is taking point with the AR, and I'm going to keep her flanks covered using the pistol.

She'd look almost comical in her too big clothes if not for the fierce line her eyebrows had drawn on her face. She switches to hand signals, and even though she has more fingers, she gets her point across. I follow along behind her, remaining a silent as possible.

I had questioned her motive about going the the cargo bay when she laid out her plan of escape. Apparently there's a ship with a few illegally added touches sitting in there. It would be a lot safer than an escape pod if we could get a hold of it. Since neither of us know where we are, it's possible the escape pod would just shoot straight into space, and the batarians would just pick us right back up.

We slip down a hall and into a storage room empty of guards. For now.

Abby goes to work immediately. She grabs a duffle bag and starts throwing supplies inside: clothes, non specific rations, medical supplies, and ammo.

She looks over her shoulder and assesses me. "Think you can carry this? I can if it's a problem, but it's going to restrict my movement a bit."

I nod and hold out my empty hand. She hands the bag over and I slip the strap over my head and one shouler.

We move on.

The only trouble we have on the way is an unfortunate guard that steps out of a room as Abby is passing the door. I don't know when she picked up the strangling cord, but she was able to get it around his neck and both ends twisted in one hand while the other covered his nose and mouth.

It disturbs me at how easy she can kill with her bare hands. Just what kind of training had she been through? She was definitely not standard Alliance. Who the hell is she?

We enter the cargo hold and slip into a dark corner behind crates of supplies. We both make an inventory of the numbers in the room. Mostly batarians with a few vorcha mixed in. I glance up at the ship taking up most of the space, thankful it's actually here.

It doesn't look like the long range comms are functional, but I can see the guns are operational from here.

"What now?" I murmur quietly.

"Depends. Can you fly?"

"No."

She swears under her breath. The feeling is mutual, I promise.

"Okay. We're going to sneak on. You're going to have to guard the dock while I get everything fired up. They'll notice the power surge."

The sharp blare of a klaxon makes both of us jump. I manage to grab Abby before she started shooting.

"They haven't seen us yet!" I hiss in her ear. She calms, but watch with suspicion as the room slowly clears.

"I think they discovered us missing, or the dead guard." I say as only three guards were left.

She nods and motions. We skirt the room to the closest cover nearest the dock of the ship, and make a run for it when we have an opening. The duffle bag bounces on my shoulder, but it doesn't slow me.

Once inside, Abby shoves the AR in my hands and quickly moves to the cockpit. I settle at the door and keep watch. After two tense minutes, I feel the ship thrum under my feet. It's nearly silent, and the klaxon is still blaring, and I hope against all hopes that it buys us more time.

The dock lifting scares the shit out of me. I hear gunfire before it closes, and thunder down the hall where I can hear Abby cursing.

"What's happening?" I demand.

"Shields are holding but they weren't fully up when the idiots noticed the engine. Either strap in or hold on tight because it's going to get a little bumpy."

I do as she says and slip into the copilot seat and click into the harness. Her hands are flashing over the controls.

"C'mon, c'mon, where the hell is it? There you are, ya little bastard."

She's mumbling this to herself but when I hear a gun whir up I choke down the need to tell her to get a move on.

Thrusters engaging, she turns the ship around in the hold. My heart stutters when she bumps into some cargo, but I don't have time to complain as she blows the hull wide open with a cannister. She rams the thrusters and we're out into space along with the rest of the cargo hold.

Abby isn't done, however. She circles the slaver, picking off their one defensive gun and the comms, before holding at the rear and firing again and again at the other ship's thrusters. She hits the drive core, and I feel sadistically satisfied as we shoot away from the impending explosion.

But soon, the high wears off and I'm left with the stark realization of my reality.

I'm alone with a human, and she might decide she doesn't need me anymore.


	4. And Into the Fire

Suddenly, I'm tense again. Abby sets the autopilot for the Citadel then unbuckled from her harness and stands, stretching her arms over her head. I hear cracks down her back.

This is it. This is the day I'm going to die.

But she just turns and starts rooting around in the duffle bag I'd dropped at the entrance to the cockpit and then leaves.

Spirits, she's gonna kill me with a heart attack.

I unbuckle and follow her deeper into the ship. A new sound reaches me, and I nearly fall in the floor. Running water. I almost sprint the next few steps and skid to a stop at a door leading into a shower room.

I pull up short when I realize she's already under the water and hurriedly busy myself with looking anywhere but at her.

"Nihlus! We hit the lottery with this one! There's a shower and a bed even! Clothes are in the duffle!"

Her volume indicates that she doesn't realize I'm at the door and I use the opportunity to scurry back down the hall.

Sure enough, there are turian clothes tucked away in the bag, and she's out of the shower by the time I have something picked out. I appreciate her speed.

Not even the bliss of the shower kept me from blanching when I realize she's already laying in the bed afterward. She's found a stack of datapads and is flipping through them. She looks up and nods to acknowledge me standing at the door.

"So I guess I'm sleeping in the floor?" I ask.

"Why would you do that?" She asks, turning to look at me. She actually looks confused. I feel offended.

"You're hogging the bed."

"I'm hogging my side of the bed. There's plenty of room for both of us."

"I'm not about to sleep next to you!"

She has the audacity to snort at me. "Nihlus, you've been sleeping next to me for days. Just because it's a bed and not a broom closet doesn't change anything. I'm even wearing more clothes than you have ever seen me in."

The truth of the matter literally makes my brain shut down.

She snorts again and returns to her reading. It's another two minutes before I edge around the room and stand on the side of the bed she's not occupying. She's found a turian shirt to wear, and it shows part of her shoulder. There are scars there, but it's not surprising. This War is leaving all kinds of scars.

"This doesn't bother you in the least?" I ask, desperately putting off crawling into that bed.

"I'm intelligent enough to be able to objectify things. My mind literally works like a filing cabinet. You haven't tried to kill me or acted aggressively towards me in the least, sleeping next to you is not a problem. Until you act otherwise, the case is filed away."

I think about this. Everything she said is true of course, but her blasé attitude about something that is shattering my world is leaving me in a confused state. It's enough to get me in the bed. It's the most surreal experience I've ever dealt with.

Until I wake a few hours later and she's stolen all the covers.


	5. Reunion

"This is crazy. You're crazy. I'm crazy for letting this happen. I'm gonna die down here in this hole, and the last thing I'll see is your backside. Spirits, this is crazy."

Abby pats my shoulder as she looks above us, gauging the distance to her target. She leans a little too far over the ledge and a foot slips. The hand not dug into the ice wall behind me shoots out to steady her. She pats it absently.

"Nihlus, I do believe that's the ninth time you've said 'crazy' in as many minutes. I believe the level of crazy has been established."

"This is your fault in the first place. I've been in this forsaken frozen hell hole for weeks. I was two days from being extracted by order of the council. And you dropped a fucking glacier on me."

I shiver, and not all of it is from the ice around us. The yawing chasm four inches from us is enough to chill my gizzard.

"Hey, I didn't know it was you. I was just following orders."

"I'm pretty sure your orders weren't 'blow the damn glacier'."

"Well, no, but the creative leeway was given."

I snort.

"Well, implied."

"Mmhmm."

I turn my head marginally and glace down at her. She huffs before turning to meet my gaze.

"You ready?"

"Fuck no."

"Good man. Here I go."

My breath catches as she swings out over the chasm, before hooking around to stand in front of me, feet on either side of mine and chest pressed to my cowl. She hooks a hand over my keelbone, and I do my best to support her as she steps up on my knee.

She's careful despite our precarious situation, and doesn't dislodge me from the wall. She crawls up my body, and when she has one foot planted on my cowl, I reach a hand up, using the other to hold on.

She steps into the hand and I push her as far as I can. Small as she is, she's still heavy. The next three seconds feel like an eternity. Then I feel her weight lift away from me. I look up and watch her pull herself up the shelf above us. Sure enough, human backside.

"Alright, I'm tying off the cable and coming back down. Be ready. We can't hang around forever you know."

"Oh, you are just fucking hilarious aren't you?"

My tone is dripping with venom, but she seems to understand its my personal panic response and ignores it. Ice chips drop from the ledge as she eases backwards over the shelf. She has her hands wrapped in two feet of paracord she had shoved in her pocket, and she dangles against the wall.

Human backside. I've seen too much of it already.

I take a deep breath and shuffle my feet until I'm facing the ice wall. The exhaled breath blows white as it leaves me. I'm just thankful my suit's temperature control is still functioning. I look up, shuffle left a few inches, then jump for Abby's dangling feet.

Talons wrap around her ankles, and she groans when my weight drags on her. There's a crack from the chasm and we both freeze. Oh, spirits, now I'm making bad puns. I've got to get out of here.

I haul myself up her body hand-over-hand and over the ledge. Once at the top, there's a thought fleeting through my mind. I could cut the cord, rid the humans of their monumental Commander Shepard right now. It would be a turning point for turians. Humans placed so much faith in this woman.

But I shake it off and turn. Laying flat on the shelf, I reach down and feel her hand slide into mine. I pull and she comes over the edge with a smile.

"See? Not so bad."

I grumble in my subvocals and she laughs. We set off down the cave, searching for the exit. I have no idea how we'll do it, or what l happen when we do, but I'm starting to really understand Abby's devil may care motto.

We'll figure it out later.


	6. Wandering Thoughts

They speak of her war crimes, but I remember her tied as a slave.

They speak of her ruthlessness, but I remember her giving me the bigger half of a ration bar.

They speak of her barbed tongue, but I remember her laugh.

They speak of her frozen heart, but I remember a warm body laying next to mine.

They speak of her gun, but I remember it lowered when she saw me.

I flop backwards in my bedroll, not caring about the looks I receive. It's been four months since the escape from the glacier, and my mind simply refuses to stop thinking about her.

Where is she? Has she been in fighting again? If so, has she been injured? Could she be in a hospital somewhere?

Does she think of me?

It's the last part that bothers me, and I ruminate on the enormity or what that thought means for me. Against my better senses, I have become attached. To a human. To her.

I try to remember who she is, that she's killed many turians in this war. But any time I try, images of her flash behind my eyelids.

Her, curled into a ball next to me, all the covers over her small form as she snores softly.

Her, and that wrinkle in her forehead as she cleans her gun.

Her, singing when she thinks I'm sleeping.

I make sure my subvocals don't give away my thoughts as I lay here. I stare up at the stars. I spot one the same color green as my eyes. Her eyes too.

I sigh and drift to sleep as the conversation merges into a new topic.


	7. In The Dark

I'm walking along the Presidium, staring at a datapad detailing my next Spectre mission. Rogue VI. Shouldn't be any trouble for me.

Someone bumps into me, and I look up to see green eyes under a sharp brow. Shes frowning.

"Watch where you're going."

Her face has an orange tinge from the glow of her omnitool.

"Shepard? Shepard! Come on, we can't keep the Council waiting."

The dark skinned human male pulls her by the arm and leads her away. I glance fervently around me, hoping no one versed in turian subvocals had been near when I'd realized who it was.

I return to perusing my datapad, but its several minutes later that I realize something is different. I'd been so caught up in thoughts of Abby I didn't even notice.

There's an extra file on the pad. It wasn't there before.

I run various tests on it for viruses, but they come back negative, and it sits there unimposing, other than the monumental swath of meaning behind its existence.

Who could have possibly hacked my datapad?

I think back to seeing Abby. She'd had her omnitool open. Could this new file be from her?

Quickly I memorize the information in the pad - in case of malware - and open the file.

I don't even know I'm holding my breath until I release it when I see the only thing the file holds is a time and place.

My heart squeezes.

She wants to see me too.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It's past midnight and I'm standing across the street from the seedy strip club that is Abby's location. I'm slinking in the shadow between two buildings, watching carefully. The Wards weren't for everyone, but that's probably why she chose this spot.

Less likely to be seen.

I glance at a person shuffling towards me on the sidewalk to my left. A woman, wearing a large sweat shirt with the hood drawn over her face and skin tight jeans. Her boots barely made a sound.

I try not to betray my excitement. This very well could be an asari.

But it isn't.

As she passes, Abby peeks up at me from under the hood, before crossing the street and disappearing down an alley leading behind the strip club.

I wait a few moments before I follow her.

I find her leaning against the wall, hiding in the shadows. I can hear the music thumping even out here, and it'll cover a hushed conversation. I stop walking in front of her, a few scant inches from touching her.

"Abby."

"Nihlus."

She grins up at me from under the hood.

"You're looking good. Finally got that weight back on, eh?" she asks.

I snort. "Yeah, took me a while. I'd lost over thirty pounds. But enough about that. What have you been up to? I haventhaven't even heard anything about you on the news."

"They've been keeping me close to home, mopping up insurgents, maintaining borders and such. They made sure I had proper time to deal with the after effects of the slavers."

Her eyes drop.

"What were you doing at the Presidium today?"

She snorts and the melancholy leaves her. "Udina is trying to hound the council into making me a Spectre. Sadly, Anderson forbade me from either calling him a dumbass or punching him in the face."

I chuckle quietly at this, then turn over this revelation in my head. She's right though, it'll never happen while this war rages.

"I wish..."

She stops herself, but I know what she's thinking. She saves it.

"...that we could get a drink."

"Yeah, me too."

I look into her eyes, and understanding passes between us. Maybe one of us would have said something in that unguarded moment, if not for the can getting kicked from somewhere down the alley. I hear the thrum of turian subvocals. In that moment of panic, I do something incredibly stupid.

"Don't hit me." I hiss at Abby, before crouching low and hooking my arms under her knees. Her eyes widen as I lift her against the wall, and she grabs at me for balance as I close the distance between us.

She slips her hands under my shirt just as the flashlight hits us. Good thing. So long as her skin color is hidden, she can pass as an asari.

"Didn't take you for an asari type, Kyrik."

To my chagrin, I know the voice. Embarrassment turns to anger and I growl low at the intruder.

"Spirits damn you, Vakarian, what the hell are you doing?"

The punk has the nerve to laugh at me.

"Well, I had been investigating suspicious occurances, but turns out what I thought was a drug deal is just a late night liason. I didn't know it was you. Maybe next time you shouldn't act so creepy. Or you know, get a room. There's a place not far from here that would have done the trick."

He arrogantly leans against the wall about twenty feet from me and Abby. I can see the shape of his smirk past the glow of his flashlight.

Abby shakes in my arms and I glance at her. She's laughing, the imp.

"This is not funny." I whisper to her.

Unfortunately, this brings Vakarian's attention to her. He comes a few steps closer. I hum to warn him off, which is the correct response when another male gets close to a female. He ignores it, of course.

"Ma'am? Are you okay? He's not imposing is he?"

My fringe bristles. He thinks I'm forcing myself on her? I'll gut him next time I see him.

Abby pitches her voice so its softer than usual and answers, "No, officer, I am fine, I promise. I hope you'll forgive my rudeness in keeping my face hidden, but as a diplomat's daughter, discretion is of utmost importance. My mother would not been happy to know I'm dallying with a turian, and a Spectre at that."

The lie is good, and I watch Vakarian relax.

"Alright, I'll leave you two alone. Have a good night, sir."

He mockingly salutes and swaggers away. I hiss.

"I'm gonna kill him."

Abby pulls her hand out from under my shirt, and my breath catches when she brushes my waist.

 _She doesn't know, she doesn't know, she doesn't know..._ I repeat the mantra until Abby clears her throat. I turn my eyes back to her. She's blushing.

"You can let me down now, Nihlus."

"Right."


	8. A Stolen Moment

The call comes in over the C-Sec comm line. Barfight down in the wards. _'What the hell,'_ I think before tapping my omnitool.

"This is Spectre Kyrik, I am in the area and able to take the call."

Bailey thanks me and directs me to the bar where the call came in. I'm already heading that way. Wonder who it is? Krogan most likely, even if they make it harder for me to do my job. Sometimes it's an asari, which is downright hilarious watching them try to use biotics while hammered. They just end up knocking themselves out.

And sometimes it's a human.

I step inside and swear. It's a human night.

Tables are overturned, glass is everywhere, blood and alcohol are mixing in pools all over the floor.

The bartender peeks up from behind the counter and points to an area behind and above me. I turn and look.

It's a human female, swinging in circles on one of the stripper poles. She's singing incoherently. I see a krogan bouncer walk up to her. I'm surprised to see he's already sporting injuries.

Something in my brain clicks as I watch her slam a foot into his face.

"Commander Shepard?"

The woman spins around, one hand holding onto the pole. Her bloodshot eyes take longer than usual to see me. She smiles. Spirits she's going to give us away!

"Spectre! Come to join the party?"

"Actually, I'm here to break up the party, though it looks like you've managed to do that on your own."

She looks around bleary-eyed. "So I have."

I watch as she releases the pole and stumbles down the stairs, before tripping and falling down the last three.

I put a hand to my head and breathe before walking to stand over her. I nudge her with my foot.

Abby rolls over and grins at me.

"Saw you at the ball. You looked rrrrreally good."

I turn to the bartender. "What the hell has she been drinking?"

He winced. "Ryncol, sir."

"You let her have it?" I couldn't believe what i was hearing.

"It usually just knocks humans out! But she just kept drinking it! I haven't even seen krogan put that much down!"

I swear again and look down at Abby, who was happily muttering to herself at my feet. I reach down and grab the hand that's trying to touch my spur.

"Come on, Commander, why don't I walk you home?"

She lets me haul her onto her feet and immediately stumbles into me. I brace my feet and pray that she doesn't regurgitate on me. For drunken humans, the stomach is the first to protest.

She looks up into my face and stares at me wide eyed.

"Have you always sparkled, Spectre?" she asks.

I glare at the bartender. I'm blaming him for all of this. I don't think Abby would remember where she's staying, so I drag her to an elevator nearby. If I can get her to the embassy, maybe someone who knows her can take her.

"Pretty, pretty Nihlus." she sighs. At least there aren't people around anymore.

She starts humming, and the humming turns into singing as we step out of the elevator. Just a long continuous loop.

"We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz! Because, because, because, because..."

Showtunes. Old showtunes.

"Abby, you are going to kill me." I whisper in her ear, but she's not listening. I see a figure come running out of the embassy.

It's the dark skinned male I saw with her two months ago.

"Sing with me, Anderson!" Abby immimmediately demands. "Spectre isn't singing with me!"

I look over at Anderson will a begging look. Even in his pajamas he looks stern, but he's also trying not to smile.

He comes around to her other side and hooks his arm into hers and helps me hold her up.

Unfortunately, she takes this as a sign that she should add dancing to drunken show. She's trying to move her feet, and pulling me one way and shoving Anderson another. We just did get inside the embassy when Bailey pulls up.

"Sorry to intrude, but we need someone to sign for the damages." he says, datapad in hand.

Anderson turns to me. "Up one floor, third door on the right. Just drop her on the couch."

I tried to protest, but he is already scrolling through the datapad. I huff and drag a singing Abby up the stairs and into the correct room. I'm glad she's going along and not fighting.

I lay her on the couch and grab the blanket off the back to wrap around her.

"You smell nice." she murmurs sleepily.

I glance at the door, but I don't hear Anderson yet.

Gently, I cup her face in my hand and run my thumb over her cheek.

She smiles at me.


	9. Close Call

It hasn't been three weeks since I saw her last, and here she is in front of me again. She's unconscious on her stomach, and I haul myself to my feet and lurch towards her.

I glace to the back of the room where a fire has caught and dismiss it. Not pressing enough to leave Abby alone to deal with it.

 _'Besides,'_ I think as I lift her into my arms, _'the Suns deserve it for being such assholes.'_

I kick up to a jog and make my way out of the hideout, jostling my cargo. She groans and pushes against my keelbone before looking up at me.

"Nihlus?" she whispers.

I lean down to nuzzle her, breathing in her honey scent.

"Yeah, it's me. Anything injured?"

She shakes her head. "I'm a little woozy, but I think I can walk now."

I set her on her feet and take her hand. There's a bruise forming on the right side of her forehead, and I want to make sure we aren't separated on the way out. The fire is really smoking now too.

It's been almost two years since I met Abby, and in that time we've met dozens of times. On planets scattered at the edge of the Traverse and in darkened corners of the Citadel.

There's been a handful of close calls when we were almost discovered - Vakarian has been a pain in my hindplates since the first time - but no matter how many times we told each other we shouldn't be doing this, we always wound up together.

As such, we've gotten a bit more comfortable with touching each other, and there are countless times when we've treated each other's wounds.

There's an uneasy feeling in my crop about the whole thing; it's only a matter of time before we're caught. But I can't seem to pull away any more than she can.

We jog out of the base and are immediately shot at. I throw Abby behind cover and dive on top of her.

Not to protect her - she's still in her armor - but I need the cover too.

A few elbow jabs and swears later and we're finally situated side-by-side and able to take stock of the situation.

"Five man team, got here in a shuttle. Mostly assault weapons." Abby recites.

I draw my sidearm and check it before swearing again.

"Little fucker is malfunctioning. I knew that slimy bastard I took it to was shifty." I snarl and throw the useless gun away.

"Here, use this."

I watch as Abby shifts aside a section of her chest piece to reveal a pistol sunk into the armor fiber. This is a new one on me.

"Is this a Carnefax? Where the hell did you get this?" I ask as she hands over the gun. It's massive, and heavier than any pistol I've ever used.

"That's a funny story that I'll have to tell you later. Right now, we got these jerk offs to deal with and your eyes are better than mine."

"Wait, what are you going to use?"

She pulls two daggers from depressions in her thigh pieces, one from each side, and grins at me. I nod. I've always _known_ about her tactical cloak, but she's always preferred fighting at range I sometimes forget she even has the thing. Or those nasty knives, with black blades and icy razor's edges.

She disappears into a shimmer, and I find an opportunity to fire at a barefaced turian that's moved away from his friends.

The bullet hits him center mast and I see an explosion of blue blood before the kick sends me sprawling.

I'm flushing as I pick myself up, hoping Abby didn't see my idiocy.

I pick off two more before Abby makes herself known, shoving between the last two as a distraction and slicing both throats before they recovered their feet.

I hear the hum of another shuttle and break into a run towards Abby. She knows what I'm about with a glance, and she explodes into a run straight to the shuttle.

 _Damned human speed,_ I grumble to myself, and jump into the open door as bullets spray dirt just behind me.

Abby has the shuttle moving before I even get the door shut.

"NIHLUS! SHOOT THESE ASSHOLES!"

I fly to the front of the shuttle and return fire on the ahuttle chasing us. Three turians. In the commotion our windshield gets cracked. I kick it out so Abby can see and take aim again.

The ground is speeding away beneath us, and I note there's frost. Late autumn on an agricultural planet. Least it's not frozen.

It's hard to control Abby's Carnefax, but I manage to hit one of the shooters riding in the back. Without them firing on me, I take an extra millisecond to aim and squeeze the trigger.

I hit the pilot and everything goes to hell. The rouge shuttle accelerates uncontrolled and careens into us, and I watch in horror as Abby is thrown from the shuttle.

I brace myself as my shuttle hits the ground and starts rolling. Then sheer terror grips me when I realize I've landed right in a lake.

Water fills the cabin instantly, and my only saving grace is the chilled water makes me gasp. I try to get the door open only to find its crushed.

I look around frantically; I can only hold my breath for so long. Finally in a panic I shove myself out the ruined windshield, ignoring the cuts I recieve.

In the gloom of the water, I can see debris from both crashes, and above me, sunlight. In a cruel twist, the surface is barely fifteen feet above me. But turians can't swim

I'm almost out of breath when I hear a muffled splash. One of the dark shapes in the murk swims towards me. At first I'm afraid of native wildlife, come to eat me before I can drown.

Abby materializes in front of me, hair out of her chstomary bun and trailing behind her eerily.

I try to push her away and get her to just leave me, but I know she won't.

She puts her hands on both sides of my face and then her lips are over my mouth plates.

Time slows almost. I realize this is something called a kiss, something humans do as a sign of affection. I'd been jealous of enough happy couples on the street.

Abby exhales.

Air!

Before I can try to figure out what she's doing, she hooks those hands into my cowl and kicks up off the remains of the shuttle.

I know she's struggling with hauling my weight up, but somehow she does it. We break the surface and gasp for air.

I am not ashamed on clinging to her like a fledgling, talons digging into her armor.

"Nihlus!"

Her voice makes me still.

"Nihlus, I can get us to shore, but I need you to be still okay?"

I gasp and grind out, "C-cold."

"I know the water is cold, but right now I need you to focus on me okay? I need you to be as still as possible if we're going to get out of this okay?"

I nod furiously and force my feet to stop trying to swim. I dip dangerously and shudder.

"Very good, Nihlus, now I need to change positions. Try not to move."

She adjusts slightly to face me, then does something I can't see and then she's floating on the surface, legs on either side of me. I dip again, but I can use her like a raft.

My hands cling to her waist. I decide to be mortified later.

Abby checks to make sure I'm okay before using her arms to backstroke, and she drags me along. It's barely three minutes later that she's dragging me up onto the shore.

I'm dizzy and disoriented from the cold. Abby is shivering next to me.

I black out.


	10. Never Turning Back

I wake to fingers gliding over my carapace. Light and hesitant, they map what parts of my body they can reach.

Extra limbs are entwined with mine, and I struggle to remember how I got here. The crash comes flooding back.

The fingers dance across my fringe.

Abby...

I tense slightly, but it was enough. The fingers are gone like they were never there.

"Hey, you awake?"

Abby's quiet voice is unnaturally loud. We're pressed so close together all I see is her creamy skin against my dark hide. I glance around the room.

We have nearly a dozen blankets piled around us on a small bed. There are armor pieces strewn around the room, mine and hers. There is debris everywhere, like the place has been ransacked.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You blacked out after I pulled you from that lake. Saw this building and carried you here over my shoulder. It's part of an abandoned quarry. You were freezing so I stripped you and dumped you in the bed. Piled as many blankets on you as I could before stripping and crawling in to help warm you."

Indeed, my keelbone rests easily in the crook of her hip, and I can feel her legs wrapped around my cowl. My head is resting on her abdomen.

It'd been fascinating when I learned humans maintain a core heat nearly ten degrees higher than turians. Now I realize it's probably the only thing that kept me alive after that dip in the lake.

Something crosses my mind, and I grind my teeth as I try to decide what to do about it.

 _"What the hell."_

"You didn't have to stop." I whisper.

She goes still; she knows what I'm talking about. Thing is, I've taken whatever this thing is that we have and shoved it to a precipice. I've laid cards on the table, and no matter her decision now, both of us know there is no turning back.

I don't see it, but I feel fingers trace the curve of my cowl before dipping to feel the seam where hide meets plate.

I exhale and my hands begin their own tentative touches. I run one hand up her back with the palm laid flat. Her skin is soft and smooth, interspersed with a few scars.

We've touched each other before, but this is something entirely different. This has an air of intimacy. This is exploring.

One of her feet flexes against my waist and I can't stop my reaction. I graze my teeth against her abdomen before maintaining contact.

A shudder runs through her and her scent shifts to something richer. It's as if I am given permission.

I thrum in my subvocals, and even though she can't hear it, she feels the vibrations eminating through my keelbone.

Her fingers rove under my fringe and I can't control my arousal any longer. The hand still pressed flat on her back slides down and traces her hip. I nudge her knee and she lifts it.

I slip my arm under her leg and run my fingers up the inside of her thigh, talons just grazing the surface of her skin. She gasps softly.

Thanks to a few special human edition Fornax copies, I know the general area of what I'm looking for. One finger glides against her folds before dipping inside her.

She jerks and clamps her legs together. I very much doubt she knows what she's doing when she glides her feet across my waist, but I let her drive me half wild anyway.

I slowly pull back my finger before dipping it inside her again, thumb tracing her outer folds. She's dripping, and the heady scent of her arousal along with the attention my waist is getting is the last straw.

I groan, then flip us over in a heartbeat, my hand still inside her. She shudders again, and her eyes meet mine.

I press my mouth plates to the throbbing pulse at her throat.

"Say no." I grunt. My voice is husky with arousal. "Tell me to get the fuck off of you. Tell me to get out of here."

Despite my begging, I haven't stopped my hand from working. I'm already unplated, and I know she can feel my cock on the inside of one thigh, hot and heavy. She breaks with my name on her lips. My fingers don't leave her as she shudders through her orgasm.

"Nihlus?"

I lean up on the other elbow just enough to look at her. Her eyes are lidded and her skin is flush.

" _Stay._ "

It's barely a whisper, but it's enough to break my resolve. My fingers leave her as I clamp my mouth plates on the spot where neck meets shoulder, and sink fully inside her.


End file.
